


but it can also consume you

by laurus_nobilis



Category: Gunnerkrigg Court
Genre: Gen, Minor One-Sided Reynardine/Surma, Pre-Canon, tricksters being tricksters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurus_nobilis/pseuds/laurus_nobilis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ysengrin is blinded by anger. Renard is blinded by love. Coyote watches, and perhaps he makes plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but it can also consume you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baniszew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baniszew/gifts).



> I took your idea about something with Ysengrin and Renard when they still lived in the forest and ran with it. I hope you enjoy it!  
> The title is a canon quote from Ysengrin about his anger.

Humans were arrogant fools, the lot of them. Even those who didn't know about Coyote's secret - who had no way to know - still acted as if they did. They saw themselves as superior to all other creatures, and Ysengrin despised them for that.

He knew that this confused the Court. How could he be the chosen medium, then, if he hated humans so much? Indeed: arrogant fools. They thought they were at the centre of everything, even of Coyote's choices. But the Gillitie Wood medium didn't need to care about humans. He only needed to care about the forest. And no one cared about the forest as much as Ysengrin.

(Not even Coyote, he worried sometimes, Coyote who came from a desert on the other side of the world. But this was a disturbing thought and he always made the effort to push it to the back of his mind.)

Court mediums came and went, with their short human lives, but Ysengrin remained. This, too, was an advantage for Gillitie Wood. He would always be wiser than them, always more experienced. He felt no love for his so-called counterparts from the Court. He didn't mourn their loss.

Renard did, sometimes. It was something he would never understand. 

"They are beneath you," Ysengrin used to tell him. "How can you not see it? They are weak, and you are powerful. _They_ must see that. Don't hide it from them by pretending to be their equal."

"Some of us do possess the ability to make friends, Ysengrin," he said, laughing, and he must have been missing the point on purpose. He was, after all, a word-twisting trickster. "What is it? Are you jealous?"

Ysengrin did not deign that kind of attitude with an answer. For a very long time, Renard's antics angered him - no, if he was honest with himself, they _still_ angered him. But he had learned to manage it. If Renard wished to make a fool of himself, it was his own problem, and the consequences would be his own to deal with. Ysengrin's task was to protect the forest, not Renard's dignity.

And yet Coyote would offer his powers to Renard, who did not even want them. Calling it frustrating would have been an understatement. Renard could have had the greatest of gifts, and he rejected them. Ysengrin would have been honored, and Coyote did not even consider him. He dared not question Coyote, of course. He didn't know how far his plans went, what he had in store for the Court. It wasn't in Coyote's nature to explain. Ysengrin did the only thing he could: watch and wait.

Then that new medium from the Court appeared, the woman with fire in her hair, and it was plain for anyone to see that Renard was quite taken with her. It would not end well. Not for him, and not for the forest. This time, something much larger was at risk. Ysengrin had to intervene. It was his duty.

"It will not end well," he said one day, as the fox returned from meeting with Surma.

"Is that concern, Ysengrin?"

"Concern for the forest," he snapped. "Will you take this seriously?"

To his credit, Renard paused and looked him in the eye instead of simply replying something witty. He was considering the question, at least. Good.

"Why do you think I don't?" he asked after a few moments.

Ysengrin huffed. He looked away and resumed his walk, expecting the fox to follow suit.

"Look at yourself! Frolicking with that human, as if she was a friend and not a spy from the Court."

"A _spy_?" Renard was almost growling now. "She is the Court medium. You know this well."

"And yet she oversteps her boundaries," said Ysengrin. "Just as I can't go around the Court as I please, she shouldn't be doing whatever she wants in the forest. Official business is one thing, but all these unexpected meetings..."

Renard stopped in his tracks. Ysengrin, a few steps ahead, did the same and looked back at him.

"What is it now, Renard?"

"I see what the problem is, now," he said, in a tone that made it quite clear that he didn't. Not really. "You _are_ jealous. You cannot bear the idea that Surma prefers to meet with me instead of you."

"That is ridiculous," Ysengrin said, his voice flat. "But your reaction proves me right, doesn't it? You are blinded by that human."

"Have you considered the opposite, Ysengrin? That perhaps you are blinded by your hate?"

"Don't be a fool, Renard. You don't know what you say. I am simply doing my _job_."

"Is that so?" the fox insisted. He was pacing closer, now, and it took all of Ysengrin's self-control not to drop into a fighting stance. "You have made no secret of your dislike of humans, that much I admit. But you have never cared before about how much time I spend with my human friends. And you have never cared about whatever the Court medium does with their own time."

"Those used to be two separate issues. Now she's having unofficial meetings, right here in our territory. How can you know she isn't doing this to get information from you? How can you expect me to stand for that?"

"I expect you to stay way from what's not your business."

"The forest _is_ my business!" Ysengrin growled.

He didn't even hear Renard's reply, or notice if he answered at all. There was a flash of anger and then everything happened too quickly, too strongly. Before he knew it, they were fighting, as if they were nothing but common dogs. There was scratching and biting and snarling and all of Ysengrin's concerns about dignity were forgotten.

And then, Coyote's laughter was all around them. They separated almost by instinct.

"Children, children! Don't fight! Look at you two, wasting your energy like this! Don't you have better things to do?"

"My lord, I--"

"Now, now, Ysengrin, it doesn't matter who started it," said Coyote. "You really should control that temper of yours. And you, Renard! Bragging about your conquests? How rude!"

"She is not a _conquest_ , Coyote."

"But you would like her to be, wouldn't you? Haha!"

Even though he obviously tensed as he heard that, Renard had enough common sense not to reply. Ysengrin, too, remained in silence. Waiting. It was Coyote's move now, and it didn't take long.

"You should go, Renard. No need to waste time with this angry old wolf here."

It took quite a lot of willpower for Ysengrin to hold back a growl - a growl that would prove Coyote right, he realized, and that helped him control himself. But he _was_ angry. Coyote, who was so clever and subtle, saying things as bluntly as that? It wasn't a mistake. It was taunting. Renard, still silent, shot one last enraged look at Ysengrin and left. Perhaps he wasn't that much of a fool after all.

"Now, that was interesting," Coyote said when they were alone.

" _Interesting_?" Ysengrin couldn't stop himself from asking. "Dangerous! The whole forest could be at risk from this."

Coyote's grin seemed bigger than the entire world. Maybe his plans were, too.

"And won't it be fun, to see what happens?"


End file.
